District 10 Journal
by MirMirr
Summary: I am Carolina Brown and my best friend, Elena Ingram, is the District 10 tribute in the 74th Annual Hunger Games. This is my story.
1. Chapter 1: Reaping Day

I hate Reaping Day. On one side, it gets us a day off of working, but forces two of our neighbors to kill or be killed. My mom says not to talk badly about the Games, but I can't help but think about it. They're horrible. I'm glad I have the freedom to a journal. I can't imagine what the Captiol would do to me and my family if they found this journal. The Capitol only expects things from us districts. When did they help us last? They only worry about their hair and how to intensify a game that no one wants to take part in. Farming is fun I guess. Being around animals calms me. Besides when I'm working, Elena helps me alot.

She's my best friend. Elena and I went together to the square on Reaping Day and stood holding hands, praying it wouldn't be either of us. District 10 is normally a warm and breezy place, but that day, the wind seemed to rip through my hair and make every nerve in my body explode. I felt like I would explode. Elena must have noticed, because she squeezed my hand. She was always so calm and care-free about everything. Everything but the Games. I looked at her and her eyes appeared to be frozen and her lip slightly shook in the breeze. It was a side of her I had never seen. I was scared of that side, because I knew it must have been a bad situation to make her worried. When the Mayor stepped onto the platform, everyone's conversations ceased and their eyes became attatched to the glass bowl containing exactly 968 slips of paper, each expressing the name of the unfortunate teenager.

Mayor Piers began to speak very slowly, which made it aware he knew what we were all thinking and dreading. He welcomed us all, although I didn't think it was an event one would be glad to be attending, and approached the glass bowl. He pulled out a slip that was crinkled and torn on the edges. He smoothed it between his hands and took a deep breath. With a crack in his voice, he read the slip. I couldn't fathom what occured until I was in the hall running towards Elena begging her not to go. She never cried, and we didn't hug much. But for that moment, we stood holding eachother as if we were the only two humans in existance. She didn't say anything, nor did I. There was nothing to say. I couldn't accept it. My best friend, 14, beautiful, and the kindest person I've met, was going into the arena. My hands were trembling beyond control as we released eachother from our embrace. The officers then came in and pulled her away before I could say what I needed to the most, 'I love you'. That is my biggest regret.


	2. Chapter 2: Pastures

The pastures are so cold without Elena's smile warming them. She makes everything brighter. I'm not very religious, the Capitol doesn't enforce any religion, but I pray like I will die if I skip a prayer session. I can't take it not seeing her so often. Especially when I know where she is and what she must be going through. I watched the Games once when I was younger like everyone else does, but the images were too much for me to handle. I remember watching the training and preparation episodes and how these men and women with strange makeup would direct the tributes like puppets on a string. Elena never cared much of how she appeared. She never wore makeup, except for when her mother remarried last autumn, and she never shaved. I can't imagine how she must feel being forced to take part in the ridiculous habits of feminism. I haven't decided if I want to watch the Games this year. I don't think I can bare the thought of watching my best friend being possibly murdered. But I can't think about that. I refuse to. It will only make things worse to think of the worst. But it's silly to expect everything to be perfect and fine when I know there are 24 tributes, and 1 victor. That makes 23 teenagers who have the same common goal, kill Elena. Ugh, I can't think about that. I must have been thinking for a while, because Aurelia, who produces more milk than any other heiffer in the district, has wandered to the other edge of the fence. I wipe off the dirt from my hands and begin to walk up the steep hill towards Aurelia. She is stubborn and doesn't follow me back to the barn. I don't mind much because thoughts of Elena flood my brain and couldn't focus on milking her anyway.

I run back into the small cottage with dead bushes around the gutter that I call my home. Mom says hello, but I don't reply. I walk around the corner to the bathroom and begin to strip. It takes a while to take off my boots because of the hundreds of leather threads that have unraveled and tangled themselves in the metal buckles. Once I release my feet from the worn shoes, I turn on the faucet and slowly step into the pan on the floor. It's not much of a shower, but it keeps my mother and me clean. The hot water stings my back as it contacts the scratches from Elena's long finger nails that formed when she refused to release from our last hug. I don't mind though because it reminds me that she is really with me. If only I could have slipped out the words 'I love you' before she left. Now she may never know. I close my eyes and let the water trickle down my face as if it will wash away my worries. It doesn't.


	3. Chapter 3: Jonathon

The boy tribute from our district is Jonathon. He's 17 and not very large. His lack of muscles is covered by his long black hair. He doesn't talk much, but makes his point clear by the degree of his glare. Elena and I hardly talked to him at school. We didn't have any classes together. I sort of regret not talking to him. He was always a mysterious character in the back of the cafeteria who kept to himself. I was always curious about him and his activities. The most I know about him is that his father owns the largest hen house in the district. The interviews are coming on in two days. I still haven't decided if I am going to watch them. I did happen to see a promotional clip from the Gamemakers. It showed a picture of each of the tributes. I just about broke down when Elena's face appeared. The television is the one place I never wanted to see her face. Jonathon came after her, then the tributes from 11 and 12. The Capitol logo aired for 4 seconds, then the television faded black.

I cleared off the table behind the old couch and took out a sheet of paper. I took me a few moments of rummaging in the drawer to find a pencil, but I found one. I carefully wrote down all the thoughts in my mind, bullet-pointing each one. By the time I finished, the sheet was filled with jumbled letters confused as to which words they belonged to. I could only make out one faint sentence, "Keep Elena safe." After realizing what I had written, my mind ejected the idea that this was possible. How could I keep her safe when she's so far away, preparing to be thrown into an arena of obstacles and confusing signs? The answer was simple and hanging on the tip of my tongue. I couldn't say it because I couldn't believe it. All of my emotions rushed to my feet and I jumped away from the table and screamed. Collapsing on the floor, I rocked back and forth with my face in my hands crying. 'I can't. I can't. I…can't. Can't.'


	4. Chapter 4: The Goat

Every year at the Games, the interviews are seen as the most important. By performance value, tributes gain sponsors who get to send them tips and resources during their time in the arena. The weirder the outfit, the more unique the tribute is viewed as. And the Capitol is all about being unique. I have come to the conclusion to watch the interviews. At least while I can handle it. They are coming on tonight at 6. Every channel on every television will be showing them. They're unavoidable. While I wait to see Elena once more, I tend to the many chores outside. I decide to start with cleaning the feed pens. They're disgusting and my least favorite. Flies and maggots fill the small corners and intensify the fact that this is the most unsanitary place in all of Panem. I finish as fast as I can so that I can leave the stalls. My lungs expand to what seems like the biggest extents ever as they inhale the fresh, clean air outside the barn. Even though it smells of manure, it's still refreshing.

Aurelia slowly trots towards me as if she was anticipating when I would milk her swollen utters. She instinctively walks to the side of the barn where my stool and bucket wait. We've done this hundreds of times before. I gently begin to squeeze the milk out of her utters, being sure not to pull to hard. She cooperated well, and we finished quickly. She happily galloped into the over-grown grass and disappeared over the hill. I gathered up my things and walked into the house.

I must have been out for a while because when I entered through the doorway, my mother was lounging on the couch watching the television. They we're just finishing the interview of the female tribute from District 9, which meant Jonathon was next. Our districts costume designer must have taken the theme of our work to heart when he arranged for Jonathon and Elena to wear white shirts, black pants, and horns depicting those of a goat. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Jonathon. Cesar Flickerman, the annual interviewer, asked the normal questions such as, 'Who is your mother?', 'What is your favorite activity at home?' and 'What is your best strategy of making it out of the Games?'. Jonathon threw sarcastic responses at Cesar, which made the crowd laugh. They all seemed to like him. I braced myself as Cesar announced the next tribute to come onto the stage, Elena. The moment I saw her, I wanted to giggle, but couldn't. I couldn't pretend I was remotely happy or finding anything about the Hunger Games humorous.

Cesar complimented her outfit, which must have been out of pity, and ecsorted her to the small chair that Jonathon just left. He began her interview the same way he did Jonathon's, but diverted towards a personal question. 'What was the hardest part of being reaped?' I could tell she was holding back tears in the way her cheeks turned pink and her nose creased. She swallowed hard and answered quietly. 'Leaving my best friend.' She may have been brave enough to hold back the tears, but I wasn't. I silently released a single tear from my eye, letting it run down the ridges of my face. I didn't wipe it away. I didn't attempt to stop. I just let it drip off my chin and into my lap.


	5. Chapter 5: What I Don't Know

What I do know isn't much. Basically I know that Elena is in the hands of the Capitol. The cruel and manipulative Capitol. I know that the chances of seeing her again are slim. But what I don't know is if shes thinking of me. Or if she has a plan. I can't stand not knowing what shes doing, or who she is with. All I know is that she should be with me. My constantly wandering thoughts have distracted me lately from chores. Aurelia hasn't been milked in two days, because I am not in the right mind set to and my mother simply refuses to touch a cow. I don't understand her. Animals are the best part about this world, besides Elena of course. Elena always says that there wouldnt be a Hunger Games without the human drive to enhance violence as a glorious event. Animals are so much more simple than the humans that inhabit Panem. Animals love eachother and their humans unconditionally and unceasingly. I wish I could live in a world where such a love existed among the government officials. But I don't. Elena has been gone for nine days now. It's unberable. I hope she knows I love her. If only I could've said so while I held her.

My thoughts begin to make my head spin and widen my eyes. This physical reaction makes me realize where my walk has lead me; to the club house Elena and I decorated when we were 7. Life was so simple and fun within those four brown walls. A string with 6 butterflies expressing various colors and patterns was strung from one corner to the next. We had imprinted our names into mud plates along with our finger prints. These plates sat on the small wooden table under the hollow window hole. I held up Elena's plate and gently placed my hand over the small indentions. For that one moment in time, I felt as if she might feel my hand searching hers for the gaps in which my fingers would fall. I must be crazy to have believed this, but I did. Now as I think about it, I feel even more upset than before to realize that my hand may never touch hers again.


	6. Chapter 6: The Games

It has been a while since I've written last. I guess I haven't had much to say. The Games start tomorrow. Tomorrow. Its so close. And yet it feels as if my prayers could have been answered and they would never occur. But I knew that was too good to be true. Elena will be in the arena. Alone with 23 other murderers. I could never think of Elena ever harming, let alone killing, anyone or anything. She's too kind. That may be what causes my biggest fear- the fact that she will have a hard time killing, but the others most likely won't have such morals from District 10. District 10 is very conservative and protective of its livestock and citizens. The Capitol is this way with all of the 12 Districts, yet causes us to sacrifice our youth to maintain their firm grip. I guess I'll never understand how the Games work. Thank God I'm not participating as of this year, but damn him for the sacrifice of Elena.

I can't make it through a single day without breaking down in physical agony over the unfortunate event that has occurred. I miss not seeing her everyday. Never telling her that I love her is what kills me the most. My mom hasn't said anything to me about the Games because she knows those thoughts will only continue to eat away at my brain. I have to watch the Games tomorrow. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she passed and I wasn't there supporting her throughout the most challenging event any Panem citizen could hopefully endure. Besides my mother's lack of conversation of the unavoidable, she has become distraught and stressed because of me. She normally sleeps in the same room as me on the small cot, but now rests on the couch because of my nightmares. My nightmares are the worst anyone could think of. The kind that wake you up in a cold sweat, screaming, and panting for a clear thought to reach your tongue. The most re occurring haunting dream is the event of Elena's death by a spear. A spear that belongs to Jonathon.


	7. Chapter 7: The Cornucopia

The Games come on this afternoon. I'll watch what I can bear. I doubt it will be much but I need to see Elena's face. I'm now busying myself with as many chores as possible to pass the hours leading up to sitting in front of the televsion, when I know I'll cry. Aurelia hasn't produced much milk lately, so meals have been pretty dry. That's okay though, because everything has turned dry. And cold. And bare. Because Elena isn't around. I piled the last chunk of wood onto the stack behind the house and sharply turned the corner. My mom was standing there and when I walked into her, she dropped the bucket of milk she had just filled. There was nothing I could do to save the luke warm liquid running through the dry soil, so I just apologized and ran into my room. My bed has never felt so warm. I wish I could just lay there forever and forget anything had ever happened. That the Games weren't real.

This fantasy was quickly interrupted when I heard the announcement on the television. I slowly got up and wandered into the living room. I sat at the end of the sofa and propped my feet on my mother's lap. I guess she didn't mind, she didn't knock them off. President Snow came on the TV first and explained the reason for these stupid Games. It took a while. I'm not sure why he takes the time each year to explain something that every citizen of Panem understands and hates. Anyway, he walked away from the podium and the country seal aired while cheesy music played for a while. Finally, the camera shot widened and showed 24 circular platforms. The platforms the tributes will soon be standing on. If only I could know what Elena was thinking. My advice? Run. And don't stop until you're out of the country. If only that were possible.

The first platform produced a small boy from District 1. He looked terrified. Next the girl, then 20 other teenagers horrified of what is about to happen. Jonathon rose, then, seconds later, Elena. The 24 tributes stood on their platforms completely still for a few moments. Then boom. The gong sounded and blurs of nylon jackets filled the screen. A few screams were heard and blood could be seen from any shot. I just quietly sat on the sofa, in complete safety, motionless, looking for a glimpse of Elena. I knew she wouldn't be standing too still to see. I just hope she's in the woods already, in a tree. Away from the other tributes, and mostly, I hope she's safe. I can now only wait until the end of the day when the tributes who have passed are shown in the dark sky. Hopefully, I'll never see Elena there.


	8. Chapter 8: Her Backpack

I've been watching the Games everyday hoping to see Elena. I've seen alot of the District 12 tributes, Katniss and Peeta. They're in love, so they get most of the air time. I saw Elena yesterday and the day before on my television. They showed all of the tributes in their current location, most of which were now in the Capitol, dead. I keep praying Elena will never be there except for her Victory Tour. Practically everyone is dead, though I don't think any are at the hands of Elena. I still can't image Elena killing anything, let alone a person. She's just so gentle and kind. Anyway, I saw her in a tree. For approximately 9 seconds, the television aired her sitting in a tall tree that was missing half of it's leaves. She had a backpack in her lap. It was navy blue with a dark black spot just below the zipper. It was the kind of blue that appears behind the faces of the tributes in the sky at night. An empty, cold blue that appears to be almost black. Sticking out of the unzippered end of the pack was a wooden handle. I know I've seen the handle before, but can't remember where. I keep running through my mind trying to identify the object, but I can't.

My head hurts now, so I think I'm going to take a nap soon. Hopefully I can dream of something pleasant. All of my dreams since the Reaping have consisted of Elena being killed, or killing. Both of which, I hate. I hate it so much. I hate the Capitol. Why is it necessary to make children and teenagers fight like this? It's not fair. I'm sure no one enjoys it but the old men who were alive during the rebellion. I lie down for not even five minutes when it hits me. The wooden handle was the handle to a dagger, the most popular brand of knives in the country. Elena had a Manthy dagger in her backpack. And the black spot was a blood spot. Elena had killed someone or something.


	9. Chapter 9: Ice Cream & Amy

I haven't watched the past 2 days of the Games. I'm too scared that I'll see Elena in the night sky. I'm also too scared to learn who's blood is on her knife. Aurelia has surprisingly been great to milk, so my mother and I made ice cream last night. It was a nice treat for such a hard time. To add to all of this, my dad came over yesterday. He normally lives on the other side of the District with his new wife. I haven't talked to him since he left my mother and I 4 years ago. That's fine by me, I don't trust him anymore. Elena helped me get through him leaving. I wish she was here now. More than anything, really. Anyway, when my dad came over, he waltzed in as if coming home from a day at the milk plantation. This hasn't been his home since he left and that was his choice. The minute I saw his wrinkled tan face I left.

I went down to the corner eatery and saw Jonathon's sister, Amy. She seems to be in the same mood as I am, which is completely understandable. We talked for about 2 hours over bread and eggs. Eggs are very common in District 10, with all the chickens, ya know. I think I'll start talking to her a lot more. Talking with Amy helped me a lot. My dad left before I got home and something must have happened, because my mom was on the couch crying. She's really emotional. About everything. But that's okay, I mean, her high school crush who had her first child left her for her best friend. I'd be upset too. I didn't ask her what happened, I've learned not too. It usually ends in yelling and not talking for a day. I'm keeping my distance. I'm meeting up with Amy again tonight for dinner. I'm looking forward to it.


	10. Chapter 10: Changes, Dresses & Speeches

There was an announcement from the Capitol yesterday that changes a lot. They said that now two tributes could win the Games, a team from the same District. This would make me happy for Elena if Jonathon wasn't already dead. I also went to dinner with Amy last night. We went out to eat at about 6, and the daily deaths hadn't been shown yet. Jonathon was alive then. We talked about the Games some more, she hates them just as much as I do. I think everyone does. Who could adore such a horrendous show? Certainly no one in their right mind. Amy told me a lot about her home last night at dinner. She described all of the smoke-burned walls closing in the raggedy furniture. Jonathon and Amy's house was definitely on the less luxurious end of the Districts estates, Elena and I passed it everyday to and from school. I miss walking with Elena. We did it so much, that now when we don't at all, everything else changes. My footsteps alone are silent and dry. I'm used to four feet kicking up the dirt and gravel. I wonder what Amy is going through right now, since Jonathon passed. The Square is having a memorial service this afternoon for him, all secretive of course. The Capitol wouldn't want one to occur. Anyway, we're having one. Amy asked me to speak for a while because she said she wouldn't be able to handle it. I don't know what to say honestly. I didn't know him that well, but I'm still really upset over his death. I guess anyone's death is upsetting. Amy is coming over any minute now to have lunch and relax and prepare to go to the Square. Hopefully I'll only have to wear my black dress once this Games. I hope to wear my green sun dress when Elena comes home.

My mom suddenly yells for me when Amy appears at the front door. I feel guilty when I see her gazing in jealousy at the clean walls. I change the subject if thought. 'My room's this way' I say quietly, swallowing a mouthful of follows me timidly and enters my room. We sit on my bed and she begins to talk, but no sound escapes her mouth, so she clears her throat and tries again. 'I'm really not looking forward to going today.' I wasn't sure how to respond to such an obvious statement, so I nod my head and fiddle with my jacket zipper. The conversation goes nowhere, really, so we sat there until about 4 making odd faces and staring out of the dirt smeared window looking into the pasture. The ceremony is at 6, so we began to get ready and I prepared what I'm going to say. I wrote down the first draft and it summed up to a half of a page. I was going to improve and hopefully lengthen it, but Amy insisted it was alright. I'll glue the draft in here after tonight.


	11. Chapter 11: My Speech

_'As everyone knows, the annual Hunger Games are presently occurring. It's no surprise that an awful lot of mourning comes with it, teenagers are killing one another. Resulting from these 'Games' is the death of our neighbor, Jonathon Michael Langtern. I went to school with Jonathon my whole life, never really socializing with him. I now wish I had. He always appeared to be timid and shy, never certain of his surroundings. Along with this meekness, I assumed he was sweet. And he was. Once in the hallway, he walked up to a crying girl, and hugged her. From where I could see, he didn't say anything, neither did she. When I say this, I admired him for his boldness. I wish I had acknowledged him for this. Regardless of what was done while he was with us, we can control the way we treat him now. I've been watching the Games this year, and whenever Jonathon was shown, he was resting or gathering foods. Even within the most dangerous environment, he was a calm and relaxed boy. I admire him for this. I'm pretty sure we all braced ourselves from the start of these Games and all the Games past that we would lose a neighbor, if not two. Although we still mourn the death of Jonathon Langtern, we must also pray for the victory of our other tribute, Elena Ingram. Thank you.' _


	12. Chapter 12: It's All Ending

Elena died last night. I can't handle the pain. She was the best and only good part of every day. I've done nothing all day. I've just been lying in my bed. No tears will come. I have a bubble in my chest and can't breath properly. Words don't come out. I don't want to go to the funeral tomorrow night. People will just ask questions I don't want to answer.

I finally build up the energy to stand up to find a pair of snippers for the garden. I glide the jagged edge, forming a groove in my neck. Warm blood slowly trickles down my chest, staining my shirt. When the bleeding slows, I am not satisfied. I find a bread knife and force it into my torso. The pain is gone. Finally.


End file.
